So It Starts Like This
by chocolatebearturk
Summary: It's not as peaceful as when she was repressing, but at least she can comfort herself with answers. Cordelia-centric.


**Title:** So It Starts Like This  
**Timeline:** After S1. No spoilers for later seasons.  
**Warnings:** A little angsty, nothing too bad for the Buffyverse.  
**Summar****y:** It's not as peaceful as when she was repressing, but at least she can comfort herself with answers. Cordelia-centric.

* * *

So it starts like this:

She knows that something isn't _right_ about her, just like something isn't _right_ about the rest of that weird little group. Everyone else in Sunnydale? It's like they don't see it. They're totally oblivious to the fact that there are really _disgusting_ things out there—things far more disgusting than the white shoes Amy Houser wore to the Bronze the other night or the pimple on Kenny Wybourne's face.

But… _those_ guys. Willow and Xander and Buffy and Giles. They _know_. Like, _know_-know. They know something's up, and they're _dealing_ with it. She knows that the Sunnydale police aren't worth anything—they never found her bike when it was stolen, or managed to arrest the serial killer who was, like, _eating_ people. (And, really? How gross is _that_?)

And when Buffy moves to town? All of a sudden she feels safer walking around at night. It's like BAM! More than half of the creepy-crawlies that were waiting to attack her are gone. She doesn't know how, she doesn't know _why_, but she _knows_. She _knows_ that they've got something to do with it, just like she _knew_ that Jessica Hollins wasn't coming back from her spring break, or like she _knew_ that it was Mike Lemming that stole the dean's car.

But even though she _knows_, there's nothing she can do about it. There's _nothing_ she can do to defend herself from witchy cheerleaders who try to blind her or invisible girls trying to kill her and as much as she hates to admit it, she _needs_ that group. She needs to keep them close, because if all of the monsters in Sunnydale aren't converging on _them_, they're targeting her. She's just one of those people that attracts the undead or otherwise creepy and it's _scary_ and sometimes (she would never _ever_ admit it) she lies in bed with the lights on late into the night, holding a cross to her stomach and praying for the demons to go away.

And even with all that, with Loser-Boy getting freaky-possessed and Nerd-Girl getting, like, _stalked_, she could put it all behind her. She could chalk it up to the insanity of Sunnydale—it's nothing out of the ordinary for them. Mysterious deaths just kind of _happen_ here and after a while you skim over the headline because it's nothing new, right? You travel in groups because that's the way it is; you don't talk about serious stuff because that's what you've always done. If your neighbor disappears, you tell yourself they went on vacation until the newspapers stop coming and the plants start dying.

So, yeah, she could pretend that it didn't happen—that she wasn't involved, that she didn't _see_ Xander Harris with the wild look in his eyes or she didn't _know_ that something bad was going to happen to Willow Rosenburg. But she was there when Buffy Summers killed "the Master" and that's the kind of thing you don't unsee.

Someone told her later that it killed Buffy and sometimes (you know, those times she _isn't_ lying awake with her eyes closed, trying to convince herself that as long as she doesn't leave her bed, nothing will get her) she can _see_ it, in her mind. She can _see_ Buffy helpless, can _see_ that… _thing_ closing in for the kill. She always gasps, her eyes snap open and she brandishes her cross at empty air. So, no, she can't forget. Because _Buffy Summers_ died.

She doesn't know when, but somehow she's become one of those people who don't just _accept_ things. Her eyes stop when the headline tells her that three campers were found dead of what looked like snakebites, her ears perk up when someone says that their dog died with no warning. Victoria Stiles' neighbor, who disappeared three weeks ago, was seen lurking around a nightclub the other night.

It's not as peaceful as when she was repressing, but she can at least comfort herself with _answers_. The snakebites, the dog, the missing neighbor, all the work of trolling vampires and she knows when she sees Buffy coming to school in the morning with dirt under her nails or circles under her eyes that things are taken care of—for now, at least. And when Giles catches her arm and asks her if she recognizes the _very familiar_ handwriting that he can't seem to place on a note that he found with information on the most recent attack? She has _no idea_ what he's talking about.

He smiles this little smile that she's seen him give to Buffy sometimes. His eyes say "thank you," but his mouth says, "Of course."


End file.
